


Home Wasn't Built in a Day

by Hedgi



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Barry Allen gets called out of shitty life choices, Fluff, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-28 04:18:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6314863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hedgi/pseuds/Hedgi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because someone had to inherit Wellsobard's house, and these nerds need to suck it up and act like a team should. <br/>Set pre-season two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Barry flipped through the stack of papers that the lawyer had left for them, going slower than either Cisco or Caitlin could ever remember him looking through things. Wordlessly, he pushed the pile to Caitlin, who flipped through on her own, a little quicker, confusion wrinkling her brow.

“Sooo…” Cisco cleared his throat. “What do we do now?”

It was the first time since the Singularity they’d really been alone together, what with Barry distancing himself from everyone and Caitlin working at Mercury and all. It almost felt worse, Cisco thought, than the first time he’d met each of them, more awkward.

“Well, I’m not watching that video,” Barry said, looking at the drive on the desk. “but we should… probably at least make sure that there’s nothing in the house that could…you know.”

“No future tech falling into the hands of whatever rich bastard buys Wells’s house. Or, uh, Eobard’s. Whatever. We never did find Gideon,” Cisco nodded. “We have all summer to deal with STAR Labs, though. Um.”

“No,” Caitlin said poking the document  on the table. “The Lab’s Barry’s if he watches the video. The house and the other assets–” she looked at the figure and her eyes bulged at the number of zeros, “ are joint inheritance. None of us can make a decision or sell it without an agreement, but none of this is connected to that.”She gestured at the drive/

“Do what you want with it,’ Barry shrugged, standing. “I need to go for a–”

“Dude, Barry, chill,” Cisco said. “We should deal with this when we have the time. Joe hasn’t called to say there’s an attack and…” he swallowed “ I’ve missed you guys. So , let’s just…figure this all out?”

Caitlin shifted, but nodded when he met her eyes. “I have the rest of the day. Barry?”

“I can go through the house in a minute, there’s no reason–”

“And if it’s got booby traps? Nuh-uh, we take it slowly and make sure there’s nothing nasty lurking.” Cisco stood. “It belongs to all of us, we should all go. Plus, I bet there’s some pretty cool stuff in there and you don’t get dibs, you already got the lab.”

Caitlin made a small noise of agreement, flipping the file of papers shut and taking the copy of the key meant for her–it was actually engraved with her name, as Cisco and Barry’s had been, and if that wasn’t creepy, she wasn’t sure what was.

Barry started to protest –he didn’t want the lab, or the video, or anything to do with Wells, when he saw Cisco’s smile.

“Ok, I–yeah.” Barry’s shoulders sagged slightly, but he nodded.

“Good,” Caitlin said. “Let’s go now. And we can get piz–some food on the way,” she winced at her slip of the tongue, but continued. “Don’t you dare tell me you’ve been eating enough, Barry, I know it’s not true.”

~~ *** ~~

They ended up picking up burgers, two for Cisco, one for Caitlin, and at Caitlin’s insistence, a dozen for Barry. It didn’t take him long to eat all of them, either, sitting in the passenger seat of Caitlin’s car. Cisco, as the shortest, had been relegated to the back, but he’d sprawled out, feet up on the seat. Caitlin didn’t sold, which worried him some, but not enough to give up the one comfy position in her tiny little clown car. They made the drive faster than it had taken the last time, even with the dead-ends and private roads. This time, they weren’t relying on Caitlin’s horribly out of date GPS, which made more of a difference than their memory– they’d still only been here once (in Cisco’s case) nor twice (ish, for Barry and Caitlin.)

The house was about the same as Cisco remembered, only with fewer broken windows. The security system looked decent, but so did the STAR Labs system and yet people still just walked in, so Cisco wasn’t sure.

The lack of glass on the floor and the thin film of dust didn’t change Cisco’s reaction to the front room. It felt open and opulent, more like a museum than a sitting room. Benches instead of couches, art on little pedestals. Caitlin glanced at Barry, then Cisco, then went over to examine a small vase, shades of grey and brown and red, like old mud.

“It’s…certainly something,” she said finally.

“It’s ugly,” Cisco rolled his eyes. “But knowing Dr. Jerkface, I bet it’s worth money. He wasn’t, you know, the sentimental type, was he?” he folded his arms across his chest. Barry nodded, speed reading through the list of property he and the others now owned.

“Thing’s like 500 years old, or more. Bet the CC Museum’d like it. Unless one of you wants…”

“Nope,” Cisco shook his head.

“Let’s sell it,” Caitlin agreed. “Ugh.”  
They went through the living room—or as Barry called it, the Gallery– like that for a few minutes, shifting awkwardly. None of them had been anywhere but this room, and it felt disconcerting.  
  


“You know, this place could be nice, like in a nice-home kinda way if if got some different furniture,” Cisco shrugged as they moved on. Mostly the place seemed to be cleared out, if there had ever been much of anything to begin with. There was a library that looked half for-show, old fancy bound classics, and half well used, books on history, science, math. Caitlin took one off the shelf and tucked it under her arm.  
“What?” She asked when Barry and Cisco looked at her. “My apartment’s – well, the building took damage, and my bookshelf got soaked. Besides, they belong to us, don’t they? I need something to read.”  
“Wait.” Barry stopped short. “Damaged?”

Caitlin shrugged. “I’m staying with the Steins for now. Till it gets fixed.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Cisco asked.  
“Does it really matter? I wasn’t going to put more guilt on– can we just keep making sure there aren’t any, I don’t know, creepy timevault things?”

Cisco and Barry looked at her, and she stared back. Cisco broke first. “Ok, ok. Hang on.” Methodically, he checked each book on the shelves. “ Damn. I was hoping for a secret passage.”  
Caitlin laughed, and Barry shook his head, but joined in.  
  
~~ *~~  
Half an hour later, things felt almost like old times, like late-night-after-heroics ice cream runs, or debating how exactly “shit would go down” if the Starwars characters suddenly ended up in the Startrek verse, and vis-versa, or if Snape truly was a villain. (“He threatened to kill Trevor,” Cisco had shouted after some arguing. Caitlin and Barry had conceded that Good People did not threaten innocent pets frogs, but that didn’t make him an out-and-out villain. Cisco had pulled out a powerpoint the next day, and they had all agreed never to speak of it again). They’d finished going through  most of the house, at least glancing over. There were a few rooms that looked like they’ve never even been touched, the dust thicker on the hardwood, no furniture to speak of. Cisco dubbed it creepy, but admitted that if they got a desk under one window, it wouldn’t make a half-bad work station.

The basement, on the other hand was going to prove to be trouble, if only because it seemed to be the size of the rest of the house and then some, and within three seconds of setting foot on the stairs, Cisco had discovered razor tripwire at uneven intervals.

“Yeah, we’re gonna wanna come back and do this later,” Cisco said. “When I have tools with me, place’s probably, like, the worst dungeon crawl ever, only without the dire rats or gibbering mouthers.”

Caitlin shrugged. “It’s not like there’s a hurry, exactly.”

“Yeah, but let’s stay a little longer.” Barry said. “ We still haven’t gone through the closets, or–”

“I thought you wanted to be in and out quick as you could,” Cisco said, frowning slightly. “ What’s wrong?”

“Joe…found out I’ve been apartment hunting. I’ve been avoiding the “ you clearly can’t live on your own because you forget to eat and won’t take care of yourself” lecture for two days. I just need to avoid him a bit longer, and–”

“No.” Caitlin said, throwing up her hands. “I can’t believe you. Barry. What did we–I–tell you about eating enough? Joe’s right. Did you eat yesterday?”

“I think so? I–no…wait, yes. No. Um.”

“I don’t care who I have to bribe with my newfound wealth, you don’t get to just move out and starve,” Caitlin continued. “You avoid us, you avoid everything, and that’s not going to help anyone.”

“Caitlin, I can take care of–”

“Dude, you’re not gonna win this one.” Cisco paused. “So I have a great  idea. And not a great as in, will actually destroy half the city great. Caitlin’s apartment is trashed, you can’t be trusted to live on your own, Iaccidentlyblewmineuplastnight… so I mean, we all own this place. Couple coats of paint, some carpeting…it wouldn’t be terrible. And that way, we know it’s secure, safe, Caitlin and I can make sure you eat, you and caitlin can make sure I sleep, you and me can keep Caitlin  entertained while she goes to work at the soulless, mind numbing Traitor Corp–”

“Mercury Labs is not–”

“And you get away from Joe, but he won’t worry so much, and you won’t have to worry about us because we’ll be, like, down the hall, and… what? It’s not that bad an idea, is it?”

“No,” Barry said. “ I mean I–I can’t put you in danger. What if someone follows me, or– Snart knows who I am–”  
“Dude. Who do you think delivered three squares a day in the pipeline? Trust me, Cait and I are in more danger from the rogues than you, and lucky us if you’re ten feet away instead of ten miles, right?”

“As much as I like the Steins, I don’t think I can handle another of the Professor’s lectures over breakfast.” Caitlin nodded. “I’m in.”  
Barry looked from one to the other. “Ok, then. Yeah. This might work.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a few scenes from the rest of the summer as Caitlin, Cisco, and Barry adjust.

Caitlin’s “Something is not right” sense went off as soon as she stuffed her key in her pocket and closed the heavy door behind her.  The old mansion felt much more homey, with the walls a pale green rather than the stark white they had been when she, Barry, and Cisco had first moved in two weeks earlier. Gone were the austere, museum like furnishings, replaced with overstuffed couches and cheery rag rugs Clarissa Stein had gifted them, which Barry had a tendency to slide around on whenever he  super-sped around the house. Nearly everything of Thawne’s was gone, replaced with things garnered from friends and garage sales—only the appliances were left. Slowly but surely, over a scarred kitchen table, shared dinners, and board game nights, it was starting to feel like a home.

“Hello?” Caitlin called, not exactly worried. Concerned. Very concerned. This wasn’t the feeling of dread she’d gotten whenever things had gone wrong at STAR, not the feeling of being watched or of danger, so much as the sense that she was going to have to Lecture someone again, and soon. The last time she’d really had to do that was when Barry had tried to see if he could run across a nearby lake backwards. Cisco had gotten it on video.

“Cisco? Barry?” she called again. “Where are you–.” She stopped. The basement door was ajar. She hadn’t been down there since they’d cleared out what they hoped were the last of the booby traps. No answer, but sounds of—struggling? Fighting? Her heartbeat quickened and she grabbed the nearest weapon, a fairly fancy cleaning…thing… meant for cobwebs on high ceilings. Then she crept down the stairs.

The lighting was dim, and as she put her foot down, she slipped on something, something that compressed slightly and rolled. She landed hard, skidding down two steps and crashing into the basement. Laughter—not cruel, more amused with a tint of nervousness, rang out as she struggled to stand.

“Bartholomew Allen, Francisco Ramon, did you turn the basement into a ballpit?” she sputtered, holding up the cobweb cleaner, the handle now significantly shorter and more broken.

“Not all of it,” Cisco grinned. “Just half.”

“This is why we can’t have nice things,” Caitlin couldn’t help but laugh, tossing a bright pink ball at Cisco’s head. He deflected it and sent a volley back.

“This is nice!” Barry protested, coming to Cisco’s defense, wading through the mess of plastic balls and lobbing two at Caitlin, who tossed them right back. “And the other half’s a bounce castle.”

“I haven’t been on one of those since I was seven,” Caitlin said, sliding under the surface and popping back up in a shower of plastic balls.

“I was thinking it would be good training for Barry, resistance training,” Cisco said.

“Right,” Barry said. “Nothing to do with the fact that you wanted a ballpit/bounce castle in the basement?”

“A sacrifice I’m willing to make,” he snarked back. They both looked to Caitlin.

“Better than booby traps,” she conceded, a slow smile stretching across her face.

 

* * *

 

“Guess what we’re doing tomorrow night,” Cisco announced to Barry and Caitlin, putting groceries away. Barry got up, ostensibly to help and snag one of the bagged pastries to munch on.  Caitlin looked up from a crossword puzzle, almost entirely blank.

“The usual? Patrol and get ice cream?” Caitlin asked.

“Track down who made these pastries and ask them to please stop, this is an insult to croissants everywhere?” Barry offered, still eating. Calories were calories.

“Nah,” Cisco said. “I ran into—well, not a friend exactly. One of Dante’s friends from High school, decent enough guy, anyway—and, well, I thought it might be fun. Different.”

“What might be fun?” Barry asked, giving up on the offending pastry.

“Festival Opera,” Cisco held out three orange tickets.

Caitlin blinked. “You like Opera? Really?”

Cisco shrugged. “I don’t hate it. I mean some of it sucks but the same goes for comics and tv shows and movies. It’d be nice to get out of the house, do something? If you don’t want to go, I can al—“

“Gimme,” Caitlin said. “You’re right, it would be nice to get out of the house, it’s so far from things we tend not to really go out at night except for…” she tilted her head at Barry. “So sure, I’m in. Why not?”

The two of them looked at Barry.

“I dunno. I mean, aren’t Opera’s usually, like, depressing? Plus, I don’t speak Italian, I won’t be able to follow—“

“Nah, you’ll be fine. For one thing, it’s Mozart, so it’d have been in German, but it’s an English translation,” Cisco said. “And even if it wasn’t, there’s supertitles. Also, this one’s a comedy.”

“’Abduction from the Seraglio’ is a comedy?” Caitlin raised an eyebrow. Cisco just grinned.

“Yup. I don’t wanna spoil it. It’s not fancy, it’s two hours, it’ll be fun. You’ll like it.”

“Sure,” Barry said after a second. “Why not?”

* * *

 

“Doctor Snow,” a familiar voice piped up as Caitlin hunted down her seat, near the front. Cisco was attempting to drag Barry away from the concession stand, but there were still a few minutes before the show started. Caitlin realized she ought to have grabbed a program, she still had no idea what the opera’s story line was. “Caitlin.”

“Clarissa? Professor?” She blinked at the Steins, and smiled. “How are you?”

“Oh, well enough,” Clarissa said. “It’s our anniversary. How are you, my dear?”

“Feeling a little over dressed,” Caitlin admitted. Cisco had said it wasn’t fancy,  so she hadn’t  gone all out, but with half the audience in jeans and tee-shirts, she felt a bit awkward in her dress and with her hair done up.

“Ah, don’t worry about it. Festival Opera’s a mix—see, look.” Martin pointed a few seats down, and Caitlin stifled a giggle at the woman’s over the top, glittery outfit.

“She looks like she belongs on the stage,” Caitlin smiled. “Cisco got the tickets, from a friend of his brother’s. I’ve never really been to an opera.”

“Well you’re in for a treat,” Martin said. “Unless you’re more of a Star Wars person.”

Caitlin looked at Clarissa, confused, but Martin rolled his eyes. “Some people think you can’t like both, which is honestly a terrible way to live, and further—“

“Martin, sweetheart,” Clarissa took his hand and shooting Caitlin a _Sorry about that_ glance. Caitlin nodded politely.

“Nice running into you,” she said. “And thank you again for those recipes.”

“Of course, you’re practically family. Mr. Allen really needs to eat more, he’s more skin over bone every time I see him.”

“We’re working on it,” Caitlin sighed. “I should sit down.”

Martin shook her hand, and Clarissa stood to embrace her. “Enjoy the show, dear. We’ll talk after.”

Cisco and Barry were at their seats when Caitlin arrived, tucking her bag under the plush chair.

“What the hell?” Barry asked, looking at the stage. There was no curtain, so they could easily see the obviously fake rocks scattered for set dressing and the screen backdrop was patterned to look like an old time television. “Why does that ramp have a Starfleet insignia on it?”

Cisco just grinned again. “Star Trek AU of Mozart. Tell me that’s not the most random thing you’ve ever heard.”

“Telepathic Murder Gorilla,” Barry challenged.

“How about literally everything in our lives?” Caitlin asked, looking around. She was fairly certain that orchestras were usually in the pit, not off to one side of the stage, but shrugged. At least she knew what Professor Stein had meant now.

“Ok, that’s fair, I’ll give you that, but c’mon. Star Trek Opera.” Cisco nudged Caitlin’s side with his elbow. “I know you know about Star Trek.”

“It’s starting,” Barry hissed as the lights dimmed, and a woman in a dress that looked like it was made entirely from glitter took the stage and asked them to put their cell phones on “stun.”

* * *

 

“I can’t believe that worked. Like. That really worked.” Cisco said as they walked across the street to a café to meet the Steins. “The music actually fit and—God, they managed to get Gorn in there. I mean, He told me about it, but I didn’t realize how little they had to change.”

“I can’t believe Captain Kirk—sorry, Captain Belmonte-- flirted with you,” Barry teased.

“That was scripted, I think,” Cisco blushed.

“I can’t believe you bought me a Tribble.” Caitlin changed the subject and held up the prop, stroking it absently.

After the show had ended, as promised with no death (except a Klingon “shooting” the first trumpet, and a triumphant defeat of Gorn with help from the conductor) Cisco had gone to speak with Dante’s friend, one of the ensemble Klingons, while Caitlin and Barry waited by the stage door. While Caitlin was taken with the pile of prop tribbles, Barry had charmed the prop director and used some of his newfound wealth courtesy of Wellsobard’s will to get her to sell him one.

“Happy birthday,” Barry grinned.

“It’s not my birthday,” Caitlin shook her head. “But thank you.”

“See? I told you it would be fun,” Cisco said, a little smug.

* * *

 

The summer passed quickly enough. Barry ran himself a little less ragged, Caitlin and Cisco there to keep an eye on him. They got used to each other’s schedules, Barry and Cisco at the Station, Caitlin at Mercury, and to the cooking skills or lack thereof each possessed: Caitlin could follow recipes, but if the recipe was off, so were all bets. Cisco was better at playing it by nose, and Barry was helpless unless it came from a can, or was brownies. Cisco started sketching out plans to build a human-sized hamster wheel generator for the house, Barry powered. The last of the painting was done, but they still picked things up every once in a while for decoration. Barry bought his grandmother’s mirror from Sherry, and they put it in a corner, polished up nicely. Cisco repurposed a bookshelf, dragged into the main room, to be a display for knickknacks, like one of Barry’s old science fair trophies, some of his action figures, and a few of Caitlin’s ceramic animals and trinkets. Caitlin started wondering about the yard, and if they could use it to grow more than flowers and knee-high grass—maybe an herb garden under the kitchen window, or vegetables.

One afternoon, Caitlin went for a walk—it was a fairly isolated area, woodsy and forested, with a small lake and not too much foot traffic. Peaceful, exactly what she needed after the weeks she’d had at mercury. Quitting was seeming more appealing all the time—and it wasn’t like they needed the money. She could work on things at STAR…but the point was, she needed to clear her head, and Cisco and Barry both wouldn’t be home till later, so she grabbed her a sun hat, her phone, a water bottle, a relatively small emergency kit that included band-aids, CPR mask, granola bar, emergency tracker beacon, and a miniature dart gun courtesy of Team Arrow, and headed out.

The walk to the lake was a short one, and easy enough. She found a place to sit, watching minnows swirl around in the shallows, and seeking out the occasional turtle sunning itself on a rock. She felt the urge to do the same, and closed her eyes. A few minutes more, then she’d walk around a bit and head home. It was her turn to make dinner, Barry’s turn to pick the board or card game, and she was planning on trying one of Clarissa’s pasta dishes.

* * *

 

A noise startled her awake, a sharp peeping noise, and she stood, looking around with a hint more alarm than was reasonable. Then again, given her life these last months…

She followed the noise, against her better judgement. It just sounded…scared, desperate even. A bird?

That was when she saw it. A duck, a dead duck, and a next of eggs nearby. Well, three eggs, and one shell. A tiny brownish yellow _thing_ was cheeping at it, and after a moment, at her, as it took unsteady steps forward ‘til it reached her shoes. One of the other eggs shuddered. Inwardly, Caitlin cursed. Ducklings? What was she supposed to do about ducklings? But it was too late for that now. She could call a wildlife preserve after she rescued the poor things. Flipping her sunhat, she lined it with leaves and then the two ducklings and the remaining eggs.

“Peep? Peep? PEEP?” the smaller of the ducklings looked up at her with some difficulty. It was half naked and honestly pretty ugly, but Caitlin couldn’t help but lower her voice.

“It’s ok, little one, it’s ok,” _Oh god I’m talking to a bird as if it were a baby or something._ “Shh, shh, it’s ok.”

Twenty minutes later, she had the little thinks settled in the hall bathroom, hat exchanged for a box lined with towels. She watched them wobbling on their legs—google said that they’d be unstable at first, and that they wouldn’t be able to swim right away, and that they needed a brooding lamp. Until Barry could be sent to get one, she hoped a desk lamp would work. Already they seemed to recognize her, though that was what ducklings did, right? Imprint? What did you even feed ducklings? (Another check on the internet said not to feed them the first 24 hours, so that was something at least.)

“Peep?” the same little duckling managed to tilt its head back to look at her, and wobble tiny, stubby wings. Caitlin couldn’t help herself, she cooed.

The front door opened. “Caitlin?” Cisco’s voice echoed. “You home?”

“Uh, yeah hang on—“Caitlin shot up, opening the door. “You’re home early.”

“No?” Barry checked his watch, then double checked. Caitlin realized that it was later than she’d thought.

“Sorry, I’ll get dinner going, it’s just that—“

“I hear…” Cisco pointed at her door. “Chirping? What is tha—oh my god, ducklings.”

“Don’t get attached,” Caitlin warned as Cisco knelt by the box.

“But that’s the point of ducklings, how can you not get attached?” Cisco asked, genuinely shocked. “Look at the faces. Look at them.”

“I have,” Caitlin said. “That’s the problem.”

“Awww,” Barry grinned. “Caitlin, are you already attached? Did you named them?”

“Tell me you didn’t name them,” Cisco said, mock-urgent.

“I don’t know why you don’t like my names!” Caitlin said. “And…well, um. That one’s Quakers.”

“Really? Quackers? REALLY?”

“Shh, you’ll scare them, don’t be so loud.” Caitlin reached a hand into the box, gently, to steer Quackers closer to the others. “It’s ok babies, Mama’s right here.”

Barry grinned. “I’ll get started on dinner, then, since you’re busy.”

“No, I need you to go to the store,” Caitlin stood up again, fumbling for a list. “I’ll get dinner, the gnocchi’s only supposed to take three minutes anyway.”

“Sounds good,” Barry took off as Caitlin slipped into the kitchen, set a pot of water to boil, and returned to the ducklings. They greeted her happily.

“Ok, so Quackers? What are the rest of them named? Nothing can be worse than Quackers.”

“Those two are Donald and Daisy--” Caitlin smiled at the ducklings in question as Cisco faced palmed.

“Quackers, Donald, and Daisy?” he asked. “Really? Caitlin, have I taught you nothing about names? Nothing?”

“And the last one,” she continued as if there’d been no such interruption, “is Rhubarb.”

“Why.”


	3. Chapter 3

Barry continued to fix up buildings around Central city by night, but Caitlin and Cisco insisted on being let in the loop. 

“Remember when you tried to fight Tony Woodward?” Caitlin reminded him when he’d told them he was fine doing it alone. “ You’re faster now, but if a shelf, or a roof falls and you’re distracted, wouldn’t you rather we be the ones to get you out than some random construction worker?”

Barry had tried again, and Caitlin had threatened to sicc Iris on him, which had the desired effect. Iris was grieving, and it had translated into fierce protection. If Caitlin told Iris, Barry was half certain he’d find her drinking coffee in the still under construction Jitters loft, waiting for him.  So he relented, and while the video went unwatched, STAR Labs remained as busy as it had been before the Singularity. 

 

After the hospitals, the schools, the banks, and the hardest hit apartments and largest office building, Jitters was next on Barry’s Fix It list. He had learned more about wiring and construction permits and plumbing in the last four weeks than in the last four years, but it was well worth it. Even with Caitlin’s old apartment building back to its former glory no one brought up  the idea of her leaving. 

 

For one thing, it had helped the city. For another, it had made the renovations at Wellsobard’s much easier. Paint and furniture had been one thing, and well needed.  Rebuilding almost an entire wall and ceiling to make the giant skylight smaller and make the fireplace more functional. Rather than just being for decoration, Cisco and Barry had converted it into something more traditional, with a proper hearth in front so Cisco could leave bread dough to rise, and a handy little basket of marshmallow roasting sticks beside it. 

 

One sunny morning the trio gathered in the spacious back yard, trailed by Joe and Iris and by Caitlin’s “babies.” While Cisco, Caitlin, and Iris worked on a patch of what had presumably once been a well manicured lawn, seedlings of cilantro and dill and scallions ready, Barry and Joe checked books and measured. Barry did most of the real work, digging out the duck pond, but Joe did his part, keeping Donald, Daisy, and Quackers from interfering, herding them back towards Mommy Caitlin. Rhubarb was too distracted trying to eat the herbs Cisco had wanted for the kitchen garden to bother with the hole, at least until Barry got the piping in and it started to fill with water.

 

The ducklings had learned to swim in the bathtub of what had been the master bedroom (and was now, fittingly, a storage room) which was the size of a small swimming pool, but the pond was huge, and they were excited, tripping over their own feet to investigate.

 

“If you’d made it deeper, you could swim in it,” Iris teased. 

“We have room for a pool,” Barry mused, looking at the rest of the yard, the fence so far off he could see all of it from where he stood due to the trees and overgrown shrubbery.

“Hot tub,” Cisco suggested. 

“It’s too hot for hot tubs,” Caitlin pointed out.

“Well in the winter it’ll be too cold for an outdoor pool,” Cisco shrugged. “And I don’t like swimming much.”

“We could build a tree house instead,” Barry pointed at two of the trees, he wasn’t sure what kind they were. Oaks, maybe. Or Sycamores? Something.  They looked sturdy and strong, with spreading branches.

“You sound like 12 year olds planning a dream house,” Joe laughed, tossing some peas to the ducklings, who paddled over, cheeping and peeping happily and gobbling the snack. 

“I mean...we kind of are,” Barry grinned

“Speak for yourself, I’m 14 and a half,” Cisco shook his head in mock disgust, hair coming loose from the ponytale he’d gathered it in. “ and I’m starving. Who wants lunch?”

“Who’s cooking?” Iris asked with some urgency.

“Not me,” Caitlin promised. She could make a few recipes, simple things if they had exact steps: boil water, add gnocchi, cook for exactly 2 minutes, drain. Anything that relied on ‘best judgement’ was, as they’d all learned from the Pancakes From Scratch Disaster, beyond her skill set. Barry was only slightly better.

“I tried a new bread recipe yesterday,” Cisco said, “And we’ve got leftovers.”

“With Barry in the house? How’d you manage that, I could do that before he got superspeed,” Joe asked.

Seeing the industrial sized oven Cisco had specially designed, and the walk in fridge, made it a little easier to understand.  True to his word, there was crusty bread, with some herby butter to go along with it, one of Barry’s experiments. Barry scurried around reheating things: a baked pasta casserole from the night before (one of three, the other two had been eaten), what looked like large crispy rocks but were apparently hardboiled eggs wrapped in spicy sausage and fried, a bowl of mashed potatoes so big Barry could put his arms all the way around it, but Caitlin or Cisco could not. Cisco put together a salad, and they dug in, joined after a short time by the ducklings, eager for attention and treats.

 

~ ~ ~ 

“Barry?” Cisco asked, sometime around one AM. The three of them were in the now cosy livingroom, staying awake together on Caitlin’s orders, because Barry had smacked his head a little too hard in his apprehension of  Kyle Nimbus and healing factor or not, she wanted to be safe. 

“Yup?” Barry asked, concentrating on not speed reading his book. His head still ached a little anyway.

“If you want to watch that video, you know we’d watch it with you, right?” Cisco pressed.

Barry tensed, which made Caitlin tense from her squashy little arm chair. She kicked off the crochet blanket that Clarissa had given them, moving closer to the boys, Barry on his couch, Cisco by the fire, watching starbursts and marshmallows burn.

“I don’t...I can’t…” he shook his head, dropping the book. “I can’t see  _ him. _ ”

“We could watch it for you,” Cisco offered, swallowing against the thought of giving Thawne, even dead, any more power over him, that last, final word. “Or I could. If Caitlin…”

“It’s ok,” Caitlin nodded. “I can. We can tell you if there’s anything...important.”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” Barry protested. 

“We know,” Cisco said. “We’ve been over the “asking us to do things we don’t want to do” back with the trap. But you’re not asking. We’re offering. If you feel guilty, sign over two thirds of the lab to us once it’s officially yours.”

“You can keep my third,” Caitlin muttered, “Property taxes would be a nightmare.”

Barry laughed in spite of himself, and then nodded. “Not tonight. But ok.”   
“We have time,” Caitlin assured him.   
“Another two months,” Cisco  set another marshmallow into the flames, rescuing it as it blackened and tossing it to Barry.

“Thank you,” Barry said, catching it in his mouth, glad his speed healing prevented him from burning his tongue for long.   
“What’s family for?”

 

~~ ~~ ~~ 

 

Mercury labs kept Caitlin working later on Monday, but Cisco was more than happy to spend the extra time at CCPD working on a proposal for a new project to better protect the cops from Metahumans who chose to  turn to crime, and to work on enhancing the tech Iron Heights/ the federal government wanted to buy the rights to for power suppression in prisons. Before he gave them anything, Cisco wanted to be sure that he built in a failsafe, and  a way to find out exactly where the tech was being used. Eiling may have been gone, but Cisco wanted to be sure  there wouldn’t be any more Bettes. 

 

By the time the two of them got back, the kitchen looked like a Warzone. Barry sat on the kitchen counter, eating, and stopped to grin sheepishly. “Sorry, I started to get lightheaded.  Hang on.” The kitchen filled with lightning, and the settled, the pasta sauce cleaned off the stove hood and back wall, the dishes done.

“Anything left for us?” Caitlin asked, only half teasing.

“Of course. I’m hungry, not heartless.” He pointed to the pot still full of pasta, and they dug in, eventually joined by Rhubarb and Daisy, who settled near Caitlin’s chair, content.

 

Dinner done, Caitlin and Cisco retreated to the library to watch the recording, while Barry headed for the basement, where the ballpit had yet to be disassembled. Sitting together, they set up the laptop, one without a camera or microphone built in just to be safe, and hit play.

 

The first seconds of the video left a sour taste in Cisco’s mouth, a taunt, a jab from beyond the grave. He almost wanted to stop it, throw the whole contraption out into the duckpond and call it done. Instead, he made himself watch. Caitlin gripped his hand.

 

“Now, erase everything up to this point, and give the following message to the police,” the recording said, and paused. “My name is Harrison Wells. Being of sound mind and body, I freely confess--”

Caitlin was faster than Cisco, pausing the video.

“Oh, my god,” Cisco whispered. “ Get Barry. I’m going to get something to make sure this won’t erase itself.”

  
No sooner had Cisco isolated the confession, the three of them having watched the rest of the video, than Barry took off, heading for Joe’s, returning after a few moments to bring them along, too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because canon is being a Mess right now and I felt like it, dangit.


End file.
